The Faithful Heart: On the Day of His Wife’s Funeral, Fyodor Didn’t Shed a Tear—But Village Gossip S…

FAITHFUL HEART

On the day of my wifes funeral, I didnt shed a tear.
She never meant much to him, I told you so, I overheard Mrs Baxter tell her neighbour under her breath.
Oh do hush, whats it matter now? Mrs Jenkins replied quietly. Those poor children left motherless with a father like that.
Youll see, hell end up marrying Kate for sure, Mrs Baxter insisted.
Kate? Why her?
Shes not his love, surely. Or have you forgotten how he used to run off with Glenda to the hayfields? Kates got her own family, and shes forgotten all about him by now.
Are you quite certain?
Of course. Kates husband is one of the best men about. Why would she throw that away for Thomas and his brood? Shes a sensible woman. But Glenda, on the other hand, struggles daily with her Stuart. She and Thomas, I wager, will find comfort in each other again.
And so the gossip went.

We buried Edith in the churchyard. The twins, Michael and Pauline, clung to each other’s hands. They had just turned eight. Edith married me for loveof that Im sure. Whether I ever truly loved heror what the village thought about itno one could ever tell, not even Edith herself.

They said shed fallen pregnant and that Id married her out of duty. Our first, little Clara, arrived early and didnt live long; after that, we were childless for a good many years. Ill admit, I must always have seemed a distant mansilent and brooding. People called me the Loner. I never was one for chat, and hardly for warmth, and Edith knew that more than anyone.

Still, God seemed to have mercy on her, at least in some way. She prayed every night, and at last, we were blessed with twins.

Michael took after Edithkind-hearted and gentle. Pauline was more like mereserved, private, impossible to read. She drew closer to me, perhaps because our natures matched. Youd find me planing wood or sawing in the shed, with Pauline always nearby, quietly listening to whatever lesson or memory I cared to share. Michael was ever beneath his mothers feet, fetching a bucket of water, sweeping the hearth, helping however a boy could. Edith adored them both but understood Michaels ways more than Paulines.

When Edith was nearing the end, she took Michaels hand:
Son, I wont be here much longer. Youll be the man of the house soon. Take care of your sisterdont ever let her come to harm. Youre her guardian now, you must look out for her. Shes your sister, she needs your protection.
And Dad? Michael asked.
What?
Will Dad look after us?
She hesitated. I dont know, love. Life will tell.
Then please dont leave us, Mum. How are we to manage? he cried.
If only it were up to me, she whispered, and by morning, she was gone.

I sat by her side all night, holding her hand, still as stone. Not a tear, not a word, just hunched and hollow.

Life found its rhythm again. Pauline tried hard to manage the housecooking what she could, tidying the cottagebut she was just a girl. My sister Natalie came round each day. She helped Pauline learn the ropes of running a home.

Aunt Natalie? Pauline asked me once. Will Dad marry again?
Ive no idea, love, Natalie replied. He certainly wont be telling me his plans.
Natalie had her husband, Philip, and their childrena close, happy family.

If things go badly, will you take us in? Pauline persisted.
Dont be silly. Your father loves you both; he wont let any harm befall you, Natalie said firmly.

Meanwhile, the village rumour mill worked overtime, muttering that my old flame with Glenda had caught again.

Glenda must be mad, falling back in with Thomas, forgetting her own folk, chattered Mrs Baxter.
Daft woman, that Glenda, echoed the women outside the shop, before Mr Mason, the parish council head, shooed them away.
Thats enough! Off you go, and stop picking people apart. You dont truly know your own neighbours, Mr Mason scolded, standing up for me.

Yes, its truethere was once a powerful love between Glenda and me, enough to fill novels. But work took me to another county for several months, helping on distant farms. By the time I returned, Glenda had got mixed up with Stuart Carter. I found out soon enough, gave Stuart a piece of my mind, and stopped speaking to Glenda right after.

Glenda married Stuart, a good-for-nothing drinker, always chasing a new fancy. She wept over what shed lost, knowing shed never have kept a man like mea sober, hard-working, if quiet, soul. In time, people saw me gravitate toward Edith. Edith blossomedour neighbours heads turned to watch her light up with happiness.

Love does remarkable things, theyd say.

Edith had loved me long before, but she never dared voice it. Who could compare with Glenda, the village beauty? And yet, life turned as it liked. We walked together, talked, and soon enough, quietly wed at the town hall.

The wedding was simple. My only family was Natalie; Ediths elderly mother was all she had. There were old suspicions in the villagefolk guessed Ediths mother had carried on with Mr Percival, the head councilman. Shed been a lively onenever married, flirted outrageously, always invited whispers. Edith, though, was nothing like her mother. And what blame could fall on a daughter for her mothers choices?

Many felt sorry for Edith, especially when she wed me.
Shes in for a tough lifehe doesnt love her, mark my words, old Mrs Partridge would sigh.

But, to the surprise of all, I stayed faithful to Edith. Because what can you really hide in an English village? We shared fifteen yearsin all that time, not a proper row between us. The neighbours relaxed, until Edith fell ill last winteran awful, unforgiving illness.

One evening on my way home from the works, Glenda caught up with me.
Thomas, mind if I have a word? Ive brought some pies for the children, she called.
No, Glenda, thank you. Natalie baked for us yesterdaykitchens full of pies.

But I wanted to do it out of kindness, Thomas.
Natalie did too, Glenda.

She gathered her courage. Thomas, could we meet by the old mill after dark?
And why would we do that?
Come on… Have you forgotten what we once shared?
All thats long buried, Glenda. I love my childrenI loved Edith.
Shes not coming back, Thomas, Glenda whispered.
Love doesnt die, I told her.
You didnt love her, you only married her to spite me.
Go home, Glenda, I said quietly and walked away, not once looking back.

She stood in the lane long after Id gone, alone.

Years passed. The twins grew up. Natalie always visited, but she knew for certain nowher brother, Thomas, could love only one in his life.

One day, Natalie greeted Pauline at the door. I heard youre walking about with Christopher Green lately.
Pauline, now a young woman, nodded. And what if I am?as Natalie looked at her, thinking how lovely shed become.

Just mind yourself, Pauline, Natalie warned.
What for?
You know full well. Youre grown now.
I love him, Aunt Natalie. Properlyfor life.
You only think its forever.
No, Im sure of it.
You might be, girlbut is Christopher?
If Christopher betrayed me, Id never be able to love another.
Natalie nodded. That, I believe.

One Friday evening, Michael and I waited for Dad to come home.
Hes late again, Michael said.
Its Friday.
So?
He always goes to Mums grave on Wednesdays, Fridays, and at weekends.
How do you know? Michael frowned.
Its obviousyouve never understood Dad.
I led Michael on the quiet path behind the gardens to the churchyard.
There, look, I whispered, pointing to his hunched figure.

We listened as Dad spoke to the grave:
Thats how it is, Edith. Soon our Pauline will marry. Ive gathered her dowryNatalies helped a great deal. We plod along. Forgive me, Edith, that in life I spared so few gentle wordsbut my heart spoke all of them, even if my mouth couldnt. I show my love with my heart, not words, he said hoarsely, before slowly turning for home.

Michaels eyes welled silently, and the two of us quietly watched our fatherfaithful to the end.